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LAST October, the British authorities arrested a 22-year-old London man named Younis Tsouli and charged him with conspiring in a bomb plot. Tsouli, it soon turned out, was no novice. Investigators believe he was a celebrated militant known by the teasing Arabic nickname Irhabi ("Terrorist") 007. His capture, by some accounts, was an important milestone in the effort to take down Qaeda-affiliated terror cells in Britain.

But Irhabi was not known for his involvement in any actual terror attacks. Instead, his reputation came entirely from his role as one of Al Qaeda's most effective computer hackers and propagandists. He helped distribute online weapons manuals and videotapes of bombings and beheadings. He taught seminars on how to operate undetected on the Web, and how to hack into vulnerable Web sites and upload material onto them.

Irhabi, in other words, was part of a new generation that has helped make the Internet central to the strategy of today's terrorist movements. Two years ago insurgent groups in Iraq released a handful of e-mail statements a week, usually claiming credit for attacks. Today there are dozens every day, including attachments with videotapes of battles and executions, testimonials from suicide bombers and fatwas supporting them from radical clerics. Al Qaeda now views the Internet not only as an essential recruitment tool and means of communication with volunteers, but as a virtual training camp. No more need for Afghanistan: would-be terrorists can download manuals and videotapes that show them how to make explosive vests, car bombs, chemical weapons and poisons, and a library of tips on how to use them all effectively. The danger is not just theoretical. There is evidence that some of the newest terrorists were recruited and sometimes trained this way.

Gabriel Weimann, a professor of communications at the University of Haifa in Israel, is one of a handful of people who began tracking terrorist Web sites almost a decade ago, long before most analysts were aware of the problem. "Terror on the Internet" usefully outlines the basic contours of his subject, giving a taste of Al Qaeda's Internet rhetoric and strategies, along with those of less well-known militant groups from Colombia to the Basque country to Chechnya. The book also includes chapters on related issues, from the risks of cyberterrorism to the debate over surveillance techniques.

But terrorist Web sites are more than just an alarming trend. They are a window onto a bizarre and fascinating subculture. Spend an hour trolling through the Internet postings of Al Qaeda in Iraq and you will see videotapes of smiling suicide bombers affectionately patting their explosives as they prepare to die for the cause. You will also see jihadists who seem more like frustrated high-school actors, bitterly complaining that they don't get enough attention. There are weird attempts at humor, like the compilation of footage of mutilated American soldiers that was called "Jihad Candid Camera," or another one sarcastically titled "The Truth: Americans Don't Die." A few months ago the Victorious Army Group announced an entirely serious competition to design its new Web page. The winner would get to fire a rocket at an American base.

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Credit
Viktor Koen

A little more of this kind of material would have brought the terrorists to life and enlivened Weimann's dry account. Instead, he spends a whole chapter on cyberterrorism, which he rightly dismisses as a mostly bogus threat. There is not one recorded example of terrorists causing serious harm by hacking into Western computer systems, despite much hand-wringing on the subject in recent years. Weimann also cites far too many news and journal articles (including some of his own), making his book sound at times like an academic conference report. When faced with debates about policy over the Patriot Act and civil liberties, for instance, he mostly quotes advocates on both sides, offering little serious analysis of his own.

Still, Weimann is persuasive on the Internet's role in spreading terrorist goals and methods. In an example he cites, a Qaeda site posted a proposal three months before the 2004 Madrid bombings that virtually sketched out the attacks in advance. The writer described how multiple bombings, timed just before the Spanish elections, could force Spain to withdraw from Iraq. Although a Norwegian researcher saw the posting and filed it, no one recognized the clue in time.

Nowadays a tip like that might not go unnoticed. A new generation of freelance Web hounds and vigilantes has emerged in the past few years. Because of the American government's lack of Arabists and the Web's open nature, many of these people appear to be more tuned in than the counterterrorist authorities. Rita Katz, whose SITE Institute tracks and translates terror-related Web postings almost as soon as they appear, has become a crucial resource for American military and intelligence officers in Iraq, and for journalists. (She was recently profiled in The New Yorker.)

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Others pursue the jihadists more aggressively, hacking into their Web sites and defacing them, or rerouting would-be readers to pornographic sites. But this kind of cyberdefense, Weimann argues, is largely futile. He tells us about the exponential growth of terrorist Web sites since the late 1990's, when Al Qaeda had one Web site (www.alneda.com). Originally registered in Singapore, it was forced off servers in Malaysia, Texas and elsewhere, but always resurfaced within days or hours, usually in a more obscure location. In March 2003, a group associated with Al Qaeda hijacked the Web site of an Alaskan fishing town.

Today, Al Qaeda is present on scores of sites, if not hundreds. Most communication takes place in chat rooms or Web forums that are password-protected and prohibit postings from unapproved users. Outsiders can monitor some of these, but not all. Weimann argues that jihadist groups see the Internet not only as a way to reach followers and recruits, but as a broader link with mainstream Arab and Muslim populations. In one sickening example, he describes a Hamas Web site that is aimed at children, with cartoon-style graphics, songs and stories. In October 2004 the site showed a photograph of the decapitated head of a young female suicide bomber, Zaynab Abu Salem. "The perpetrator of the suicide bombing attack, Zaynab Abu Salem," the accompanying text read. "Her head was severed from her pure body and her headscarf remained to decorate [her face]. Your place is in heaven in the upper skies, oh Zaynab, sister [raised to the status of heroic] men."

What can governments do about all this? Not a lot, by Weimann's reckoning. He summarizes the debate over various "sniffer" technologies that can scan large volumes of e-mail traffic. These have proved useful in some prosecutions, and terrorists are certainly more vulnerable to having their messages intercepted than they were before 9/11. But broad programs like the National Security Agency's telephone surveillance efforts are already controversial in the West. The prospects for more aggressive methods like those now used in China and Singapore are dim. The fact is that the Internet's signature virtues — anonymity, easy access and global reach — make it perfect for terrorists. For a technology invented during the cold war to protect the American government in the event of a nuclear attack, that is no small irony.

Robert F. Worth, a reporter at The Times, has covered Iraq since 2004.